It Doesn't Make a Lick of Sense
by P Quinn
Summary: The gates of hell have been opened, and Dean and Sam need all the help they can get. After a visit to an old family friend, they find more than they ever knew they needed.
1. Preface

**Preface**

For Jack Waverly, hunting runs in the family. That is, if you really want to call it a family. His father raised him like a soldier, whose father raised him like a soldier, etc. That was how it worked for the Waverly's. Generation after generation, the Waverly men were lucky enough to find love – or just plain lust – have a son or two and pass down the family legacy: hunting the things that go bump in the night.

Jack got lucky. He fell in love with Claire Owens, the daughter of a hunter. She understood his lifestyle, knew almost everything he did about the various creatures and spirits that roamed the earth under most folk's radar, and could seriously kick some demon butt.

Their love was like a deranged fairy tale romance: boy meets girl, they fall in love, get married, and fight in the great apocalyptic war side by side; happily ever after. All that was needed was a couple of sons to pass on the legacy that the Waverly's hold so dear: saving the world, in essence.

It was a twisted, strange, generally lonely life to live. Somebody had to do it, though. Jack would bring up his boys with strength of mind, body, and spirit. He would instill in them integrity, honor, determination, and all of the skills and tools it would take to make them great warriors – just like all the other men in his family had been taught.

There was only one minor snag in the plan: Jack and Claire had two beautiful daughters.


	2. It's Always a Diner, Isn't It?

**Disclaime**r: I don't own Supernatural…or Metallicar…bummer.

**Author's Note**: This is my first fanfic, so please bear with me. Reviews would be wonderful. Obviously good feedback helps spur on the writing process, but constructive criticism is also readily accepted! I know it's kind of short right now, but once I get the feel of it, my chapters will be longer. Thanks for reading!

**Chapter 1**

"Tell me again why we're going to Laurel County, Kentucky", Sam asked as the impala rolled over the rough pavement of the highway.

"Because", said Dean, "We're going to need some help on this one, that's why."

To hear those words come out of Dean's mouth is few and far between. Dean rarely asked for anyone's assistance, including Sam's. So for him to hear those words escape from his brother's lips meant that they were in trouble. Trouble was something the Winchester boys were well equipped to handle. Help, on the other hand, is something that neither brother was accustomed to. Sure, they were occasionally aided by Bobby, or another hunter, and they were always there for each other, but completely relying on somebody…Not since their father was alive did Dean vehemently seek out the assistance of another man.

Sam was vaguely amused by the irony of the situation. How many times had he tried to get Dean to accept someone's help? How often did he have to twist his arm, or bribe him at the last minute? Now Dean was telling him this like the idea had just come to him one day, and he was brilliant for thinking of it. Sam huffed. It was just like Dean to manage to be a cocky ass, even when on the way to beg for help.

"So, who's going to help us, then?"

"Jack Waverly. He taught Dad everything about hunting. It was his family's business long before it was ours. Dad once said Jack was the only man he could really trust. I figure that goes for us, too."

As he finished his sentence, he pulled into the gravel parking lot of the little diner where they were meeting Jack. Dean liked diners, especially the small, "mom and pop" places like this one. They offered him a feeling of home, like he belonged there. It didn't matter if you'd been eating there for the past fifty years, or if it was your first visit, when you walked in, you were family. That wasn't something a guy in his line of work often experienced. That is, of course, unless he was in a diner like this one.


	3. Damn Those Dimples

**Disclaimer**: Still don't own Supernatural, but the new characters are all mine!

**Chapter 2**

Jack Waverly sat in the corner booth near the back, just like he always did. John Winchester's boy, Dean, had called and requested a meeting. Though Dean had said the meeting would be a casual one, the urgency in his voice suggested otherwise. He glanced at one of the waitresses behind the counter. She gave him a hearty smile, only to be contradicted by the wariness in her eyes. The jingle of the door broke their eye contact.

He knew immediately that it was Dean and Sam. Mind you, he hadn't seen either of them since they came up to his waist. There was no doubt about it, though, they were Winchesters. Jack was proud of all they had accomplished. He'd spent years with these boys when they were younger, while he taught John all the tricks of the trade. It had been a tragedy, what had happened to his wife, their mother. He understood John's need for revenge and wanted him to be prepared. Being a hunter was not a lifestyle you went into half-assed. You had to know what was out there, how to identify it, and how to stop it. Yup, Jack was damn proud of John's boys, especially since they'd lost their father. Jack stared as the two men moved toward him. Leading the two had to be Dean. He stood at about 6 feet tall, with dark blonde hair and a sculpted jaw set in determination. He wanted you to know that he was the leader. He was the one who could handle anything, and he did not enjoy having to ask for help. Dean was followed by his polar opposite. Little Sammy…well, big Sammy now! The kid easily towered over his big brother, but was not intimidating by any means. While his size and stature alone could make a lesser man uneasy, his demeanor was relaxed and welcoming. His earnest smile said that he was glad to see you. His expressive eyes said that he really meant it. Where Dean had the drive and determination, Sam had the heart. There's no doubt about it, John Winchester would be proud of his two boys.

Jack stood as they neared the table. Dean was impressed. The man must be nearing 50, but he looked spry and agile. Considering he stood, maybe, 6'2" and had a solid build, that was a great feat. He had various scars along his forearms and face, as well as a nasty gash on his neck that was still in the process of healing. This was a dude who could kick his ass blindfolded, with one arm tied behind his back, while doing the hokey pokey.

"Jack Waverly? I'm Dean Winchester."

_Pegged that one_, thought Jack as he shook Dean's hand.

"That makes you Sam, then." Jack extended his hand.

"Yes sir," replied Sam, accepting the gesture. "Thanks for meeting us."

"Did you boys want to get down to business, or should we eat first? You boys are looking a bit tuckered out."

"Food would be great." Sam hadn't eaten anything that wasn't from a gas station in nearly three days. They had been in such a hurry to get here. So, at this point, even greasy diner food was a delicacy.

Before any of them could motion for a waitress, a leggy blonde pounced on their table. She was wearing cowboy boots, a tight denim mini skirt, and a pink, low cut v-neck t-shirt. _Very_ low cut. Dean's eyes gazed slowly over her shape, finally making their way to her nametag - Karly. With a k. That somehow seemed appropriate.

"Hey there, Karly." Dean's smooth, subtle drawl and disarmingly charming grin made her weak in the knees, but it was his intense green gaze that actually made them buckle.

"Karly, you're fiancé just walked in and he wants to talk to you. I've got this table."

Karly blushed, and made her way toward the man at the door.

Dean was mildly irritated by the interruption of the introductions between him and his slightly trashy, betrothed waitress. That is, he was irritated until he actually looked at the interrupter. His mouth actually fell open. Before him stood a woman who could make any man fall to his knees. She appeared to have an athletic body. Her arms were well toned, and her stance was centered and well balanced, but she was unmistakably feminine. Her waist was flawlessly pinched in the middle of her torso, and her breasts, while not ridiculously large, were plump and…Dean grasped for the right word. _Inviting_. He finally managed to shift his gaze to her face. Chestnut hair cascade around her shoulders, and her dark, chocolate brown eyes held a fire and a spirit that Dean recognized in his own. Her eyes also held something that Sam's often did: concern and compassion.

"Would you boys like some coffee?"

Then she smiled. Her smile was genuine, filled with warmth and comfort. The broadness of it accentuated her dimples. She had one dimple per cheek. Dean could hardly believe it. That smile took her from sexy to adorable in less than a second.

_This_, Dean thought,_ is a woman that I could wake up next to every day_.

"Coffee would be great, thank you." Sam's voice snapped Dean back into reality. "And, I think we're ready to order to, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, what can I get for ya?"

"I'd like the special, with scrambled eggs and all bacon, please. Oh, and the coffee."

"I'll have my usual, thanks sweetheart." Jack was thankful this girl was their waitress. She knew him well.

"And I'm going to bring you decaf. You're looking a bit jittery, and too much caffeine isn't good for you."

Jack grimaced. She knew him too well.

"And what would you like?"

That raspy voice threw Dean into a tizzy. He thought of all the things he'd love to hear come out of that beautifully shaped mouth before realizing he'd been staring at her for an awkward amount of time. He finally locked eyes with her. Her right eyebrow was kinked up, and she was trying to stop the corners of her mouth from tilting up in an amused smile. She was slowly losing that battle. Dean was so taken with her, that all he could do was stare at her with a goofy smile. He wasn't one for sentimental clichés, but when their eyes met, it was as if something clicked on inside of him.

"How about I go and get your coffee? That ought to give you a bit more time to decide."

"Yeah, yeah, coffee, I…uh…I _love_ coffee."

Dean felt like a complete idiot, which did not happen often. Then she flashed him that angelic smile…damn those dimples. Dean fought the supernatural on a daily basis, but he knew it would her dimples that would end up killing him.


	4. Unless

**Chapter 3**

About two hours, and six cups of coffee later, Sam was ready to get down to business. Not that he minded catching up with Jack. Sam barely remembered him, but he sure loved hearing all these stories of his childhood. His dad had never brought up much of anything, except for various hunts, from the past. The way Jack was telling the stories; it almost seemed that they had had a normal upbringing. Apparently, when he was a toddler, Sam had an affinity for taking Dean's corn and sticking it up his nose. Occasionally, he'd even manage to get some back on Dean's plate before he even noticed they were missing!

"Wait a minute," Dean interrupted. "You're telling me I actually ate Sammy's snot corn?"

Jack chuckled. "Not only did you eat it, son, you declared it was the best corn you'd ever eaten, and that we should have it every night."

Jack couldn't contain his laughter, Sam was cracking up hysterically, and all Dean could do was sit there and drink his coffee…wishing it was Irish.

"You boys had better be careful. Laughter's contagious, you know."

Dean tensed. Every time Dimples - he never caught her actual name - came to the table, it was as if he lost all proper motor skills. The first time she was there he could barely form a sentence. Then, when she brought them their coffee, he wound up spilling it all over himself. He was so tongue tied that she had to order for him, and he had never had a better meal in his life. Well, unless you count that snot corn. He was going to have to get Sam back for that one. He was also going to have to get him back for stealing his dream girl. Although she included all three of them in her musings, she never took her eyes off of Sam, who gave her equal attention. Whenever Dean would stutter, Sam would pull some witty comment out of his ass. Since when was his little brother witty and charming? That was his job! Of course, the one time Dean was lacking in something, Sammy had to go and steal his thunder, leaving him alone to watch them laugh together like the dimpled duo that they were. Damn!

"Well, they do say that laughter is the best medicine, so maybe it's a good thing." Sam hadn't enjoyed talking to anybody this much since…well, since Jess was alive. They were barely even having a conversation! There was just something about her that seemed so familiar. Her eyes, her smile…but it was her laugh that made him feel as if he'd known her forever. _No_,_ don't be crazy. You just met her today! She's your waitress, and hell, you don't even know her name!!_ That was odd, considering how open she seemed. She wasn't wearing a nametag and she never actually introduced herself.

"I'm Sam, by the way. Sam Winchester."

She quickly glanced over at Jack who gave her a little nod.

"Ryder." She wiped her hand on her apron and extended it to Sam, who accepted it eagerly. They stayed connected for about ten seconds before Dean couldn't take it anymore.

"Hi, I'm Dean, the handsome brother." It was time for Dean to get it in gear. He was pleased when she snorted in her attempt not to laugh.

"Well, that would up to opinion now, wouldn't it?" Up until now this guy had been the shy one, stammering random words and whatnot. Now he was getting kind of cocky. Not cocky in a bad way, though. It was more humorous than ego driven…and it was kind of endearing. Even with his previous awkwardness, there was no doubt in Ryder's mind that Dean was self-assured and charismatic. The fire in his eyes alone told her that he knew what he wanted, and he usually had no problem getting it. Not to mention the fact that he looked like a mixture of Han Solo and a Greek god.

Sam wasn't too shabby, either. His eyes were so earnest and his smile left you feeling right at home under his gaze. He was the kind of guy who could be her best friend. While some might take that as an insult, Ryder was always a firm believer that the best romances and relationships stemmed from the best friendships. On top of it all, Sam seemed so comfortable around her. She knew why she felt so cozy with him, but that he reciprocated it….well, now she was actually looking forward to the near future.

"My shift is over now, but feel free to stay as long as you like. Karly'll be around to help if you need anything. Sam, Dean, it was a pleasure meeting you. Hope y'all have fun around town. Oh, and be careful with this one," she nodded at Jack. "He's a wily old man."

"Don't you have somewhere else to be, kid?" Jack teased. "Go on and let us have our guy time."

"I'd never even think of interrupting this testosterone fest." She looked at Dean and Sam. "I'll see you around."

Dean hoped to God he would see her around, but was actually relieved that she finally left. Now they could really get down to business, without any distractions. There was no way that he or Sam should even be thinking about a chick when the gates of hell had just been opened. Priorities had to change.

"Listen Jack, I know that you're aware of what's going on. Every hunter is. Sam and I are killing everything we can, but the amount of evil in this world has more than doubled thanks to that damn yellow-eyed son of a bitch. To top it all off, Sam is single-handedly heading the mission to save my life, and my soul, from the saucy demon at the crossroads. Long story short, we need help. Dad trusted you, so I know we can to. What do you say? Are you up for it?"

Sam stared at his brother. "Way to be subtle, dude."

Jack interjected. "Dean's right, Sam, we've already wasted enough time as it is. My question is why do you think I would be able to help you? I work better alone. I'm not as quick as I used to be, and I refuse to put you boys in any more danger. I'm much more of a liability than an asset."

"But you know somebody who could help us." Sam understood exactly what was going on. The tone that Jack was using indicated that he had another plan for them. He had no intention of letting them down, just giving them a different, possibly better, option.

"Look boys, you're father was a good man and a good hunter. I have no doubt that that also goes for the two of you. Now you need some help. You need someone who you can trust, who knows what they're doing, and who has a solid moral compass. I'm sure you're aware that not all hunters are in this to fight the good fight. You need a hunter who is tough, strong and agile, but also compassionate. You need somebody who is going to bring out the best of both of you. I mean no disrespect when I say this, but that person is not me."

Dean was peeved. He drove all this way to humiliate himself by asking for help, and now he was getting rejected! He couldn't wrap his head around it. The past couple of hours had gone perfectly. They talked, shared stories, goofed around. Dean started to feel like they were family. Now he was refusing to help? Telling him everything that he and Sam needed, but not being able to provide it? This was too much. Dean stormed off. He stepped outside and walked around the building. Sam was right behind him.

"Dean, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" Sam yelled.

"Look, let's just get out of here. I went against my better judgment coming here, anyhow."

"At least you stay true to yourself."

"Oh, what is that supposed to mean? Save me the bleeding heart speech, Sam. We asked Jack for help, and he turned us down. There's no point in staying here now."

"What I'm saying is that the first sign that something isn't going your way, you bolt. You didn't even let Jack finish what he was saying. Did it ever occur to you that he had someone better for us?"

"We came here to get Jack's help, nobody else's." This was getting ridiculous. Leave it to Sam to search for the hidden meaning in Jack's words. "He's the one that we need, Sam. Everything that we know is because of Dad, and everything that Dad knew was because of Jack. That's it."

"He's not Dad, Dean!" Sam exclaimed. "You can't just fill Dad's void by somebody who might vaguely remind you of him. If we need help, then we'll find it, but don't treat Dad like he's replaceable."

That was it. Dean couldn't hold in his anger and hurt anymore. He wailed one on Sam. He didn't realize how much power was actually behind that right hook, but Sam went tumbling onto the gravel. Dean went over to check on him, and Sam kicked his feet out from underneath him. After getting up on their feet, the boys just stared at each other. Sam's lip was bleeding, and Dean was going to have a nasty bruise on his elbow from where he landed. Neither brother said anything, but each knew what the other was thinking. Dean wanted to apologize for blind-sighting his little brother, but still felt he had the right to, so he kept quiet. Sam was still in shock from the connection Dean's fist had made with his face. The silence was finally broken by the crunch of the gravel. It was Ryder.

"Looks like I missed the show. You know, I was just kidding about the whole 'testosterone-fest' thing"

The boys just stared at her, unsure of what to say. Sam felt like an idiot for being sucker punched by his brother. Dean felt like a jackass for punching his brother. Ryder finally spoke.

"So, do you need help, or what?"

Dean gave a quizzical look to Sam, who shook his head and shrugged his shoulder. She had left before they even brought up that part of the conversation. How could she know that they needed help? Did she even know what they even needed help with? That was doubtful. If she did, she would be having an anxiety attack, and it was doubtful that she would've stayed and offered to help. Unless…

Jack turned the corner. "Is everything okay out here?" He looked at Ryder.

"Don't worry, Dad, I've got it under control."


End file.
